Used To
by but-words-can
Summary: This is a real life fanfic about Troian and Patrick. Just something that i came up with for what happened after Patrick showed up on the set of "Pretty Little Liars." Oneshot. Sorry, i had to make some changes and accidentally deleted the story/reviews


I looked at the house before me; familiar bricks, familiar door, everything exactly the same. But so different, so much had happened since I was last here.

I had so many amazing memories here. I remember lazy summer days sitting out in the backyard and him being so ridiculously protective; telling me to wear sunscreen, worrying about the random insects flying around, asking if I was too cold, too hot, too anything. He is so sweet.

Was.

No, stop.

Cold winter months in front of the television and autumns spent curled up on the couch together reading anything and everything. In spring, we would spend all morning wrapped up in our blankets watching the sun rise over the window sill, perfectly framed by the orange-yellow beams as his eyes turned as green as the ocean. I still remember the look in his eyes somewhere between glinting and sparkling – full of boyish excitement and mischief – as he ran in with a new recipe or cookbook. We used to cook all the time. Well, I would cook and he… he would try, but it was usually my job to keep him out of the kitchen. I came up with a few very creative ways of doing that, if you know what I mean.

I used to.

I used to love coming every day after work. But with him being on auditions all over the country it was hard to be together.

I used to smile whenever I pulled into the driveway, seeing the light on in the small window and knowing he was finally home.

I used to.

I felt an unfamiliar laugh bubble up in my throat. It had been a while since I'd laughed properly. I knew how long. And why.

But I could never admit it to myself.

That was always a problem of mine, I could never admit when I had made a mistake.

* * *

I looked at the house before me; familiar bricks, familiar doors, but nothing the same. It used to full of life, happiness and laughter. Full of love.

Now, everywhere I looked, that feeling came back – unfamiliar, unwanted. The feeling of total emptiness.

I didn't even know if I was talking about the house or myself anymore.

"Oh god, what am I doing? Now I'm relating to a house?" I slammed my fist into the counter. "And now I'm talking to myself. _And_ my hand hurts." I wandered over the couch, cradling my hand as I walked. I really hope it's not broken, that would be a fun thing to explain. Everyone's still acting like I'm going to break at any moment. As if I can't survive without her, as if I _need_ her. And I guess that's the saddest part, because even though I've told so many people that I'm fine – told myself. I'm not, and I don't think I ever will be.

How could she do this to me?

How could _I_ do this to me?

She broke up with me. Why didn't I just accept that? Why did I have to follow her, to try and get her back?

I came up with this stupid plan, show up at her work and get her back. I let myself _hope_, only to have it all destroyed when she rejected me _again_.

"Well, you know what they say about hope." I whispered to myself.

And that's when I heard it. A laugh; soft and sweet. So quiet I thought I imagined it, I mean, it's not like it would be the first time I dreamed about her. I must be getting even worse if now it was happening when I was awake. But it seemed so real. The familiar husky tone behind it, it made my heart jump only to be severed from my chest when I realised that she wasn't here – would never be here again.

A soft knock reverberated through the empty hallway.

* * *

My heart stopped as soon as I heard that knock.

'_No, I'm being stupid._' I thought to myself. '_It's probably just a neighbour or a salesman._'

'_Really? At midnight?_'

'_11:47._'

'_Oh, like that's so different._'

In many ways, I was conflicted. I wanted to just walk over to that door. I wanted for her to not have that kind of hold over me. So strong that I couldn't even open the door in my own house.

"Just open the door, Patrick. You have to get over this, you have to get over her."

I breathed deeply and walked out into the hallway. The door was now only a few metres away from me, so close yet so far. I could see the shadow of a person at the bottom of the door, they were standing far away from the door, as if they didn't want to be there. That confused me more than anything. I had stopped with my hand hovering over the doorknob when the door swung open.

* * *

She stood there, the face I'd been missing for so long. Still as flawless as my dreams remembered her. My eyes soaked in every feature of her slight form, knowing it would be a while – if ever – until I saw her again. I slowly took her in – memorising that which I already knew – her hands, bony but slender, the elegant slope of her neck, her slightly parted lips and the small chink in her nose. Finally her beautiful almond shaped eyes, always so expressive; they could show every emotion, make you _feel_ every emotion with just one glance. So beautiful. Even considering the mascara smudged around them from the heavily beating rain. Wait, the rain.

"Troian, what are you doing? It's freezing outside. Please, come in."

"No, I'm fine. I- I just have something I want- I _need_ to say." She stammered. And that's when I really saw her. I looked past the rose-coloured sheen my mind projected onto her. I looked past the perfection I was used to. She looked so unsure, so insecure, so… broken. "I'm sorry about bursting in like this. Well not really bursting, I mean, I have a key. I was going to throw it out, well, I wasn't sure if you would mind if I kept-"

"Troy," She looked me in the eye for the first time when I spoke, cutting her off mid sentence. "Breathe." She held my gaze for another moment before her eyes dropped and she took a shaky breath through pale lips.

I couldn't believe she was here. I truly believed that I would never see her again, that I would forever live with only memories. I had resigned myself to an empty existence knowing that I had lost the only person I would ever truly love. Now, I didn't believe that there was such a thing as 'soul mates.' Ever since I was young the concept of looking for that one person you were destined to be with, wasting a lifetime watching and waiting for someone who may never come, was simply ridiculous. But with her, somehow it was different. It didn't feel like waiting, it didn't feel like 'fate' or 'destiny.'

It felt like I was lucky. Lucky that I had something others could only dream about, lucky that loved her and lucky that she loved me. Lucky for even knowing her, because it wasn't something steering me in the right direction, it wasn't 'meant to be,' it wasn't star-crossed lovers. It was her. She changed me and shaped me into who I am today. Because even if I was just a small part of her life, something to pass by and move onto bigger and better things, at least I was there. I was lucky.

But now, she was here.

I studied her once more, looking for small details, anything to explain why she would come here. She had obviously just arrived from the set, her carefully made up hair now plastered to the sides of her face, slightly darkened by rain. Her pale skin shining from the moonlight and the rain, now just a light drizzle. She looked like a angel.

"Stop that." She snapped at me and I couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that she still had the fierceness that I loved.

"Stop what?" I asked.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"I can't help it; you're absolutely gorgeous." I smiled as I reached out, tenderly holding her face. At her touch, I felt the familiar burn steadily down my arm and into my chest, making my heart beat an irregular rhythm when it reached it. Her eyes closed and she relaxed into my touch before I stepped towards her, moving my hand to tangle in the soft hair at the back of her neck. Her eyes snapped open as soon as I moved and she quickly tore herself from my touch.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused by her sudden change.

"No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to just look at me with those eyes and make everything better." She yelled. I started to get angry.

"You're the one that showed up here. I didn't ask for you to come."

"You're the one that showed up at my work. I need- I deserve an explanation. A proper one this time."

"I don't owe you anything." I said, starting to yell as well.

"Yes, you do. You made me look like an idiot."

"Well, you broke my heart."

"You embarrassed me, you made me look like a complete imbecile."

"You were embarrassed? You're not the one who professed his love only to be rejected. You're not the one who put his heart – his whole life – on the line."

"No, you don't get to say that. You turned up without any warning and in front of all my work colleagues, my friends. Of course I was embarrassed."

"In front of your friends? So that's it, I'm not good enough for you then. Oh, poor Troian, being followed around by that pathetic fool. How do you think that makes me feel? I did nothing wrong."

"Exactly, you did nothing wrong. How do you think I felt? You showed up being all sweet and charming and romantic, like some prince out of a fucking Disney movie. Perfect. And I'm the idiot who dumped you. The cold, heartless bitch who doesn't deserve a guy like you. You don't know how hard this has been for me. You don't know anything. And yet you had the nerve to show up at the place where I _work_ and make _me_ look like the bad guy."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"Stop, I don't want to hear it. I've said everything I needed to. Goodbye, Patrick." She turned and started to walk back down the garden path. I watched her leave – now a familiar sight to me – with the sting of tears forming in my eyes. As she reached her car, she turned around with an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes were fixed on the ground as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Patrick." She glanced up at me once before turning and opening the door to her car.

"Why?" Her head whipped around to look at me, a confused look on her face.

"What?"

"Just, why? Even after all this time, you never told me why you broke up with me."

"No, I don't think I can say. I-" She said whilst scuffing her worn shoes on the cement, her eyes following the movement. I cut her off.

"Come on, Troy, please. We never kept anything from each other. And, I just- I need to know why." She took a deep breath, thousands of emotions flickering in the eyes I knew so well. I watched as she slowly closed the car door, walked back towards me and sat down the front step.

"I saw the letter."

"What letter?" I asked whilst moving to sit down beside her, confused.

"Don't play dumb, Patrick. I saw the letter from the theatre company, the one in Brazil. You got offered the part."

"Oh." My mind was blank, but I registered the pain in her eyes. "No, I can explain. That was just something my agent applied for. When he saw that role he just sent my tape in, he didn't think he had to ask. I promise you, I wasn't going to take it. I wasn't going to leave."

"I know."

"Then… why?"

"You have to take the part, Patrick."

"What? No, I can't leave you."

"I'm not yours to leave."

"No sorry, what I meant is… this is where I belong."

"Patrick, this is an amazing opportunity for you. Acting is your dream. It's what you were born to do. You have to take the role, there's nothing left for you here. I'm not holding you back anymore."

"Is that why you broke up with me? You thought I wasn't going to accept the role if we were still together? You thought that you were holding me back? Troian, that's ridiculous." I asked, incredulous.

"Then tell me, tell me that's not true." Troian was now close to yelling. I just smiled at her.

"Well, I didn't accept it, did I?"

"That's just because you're stubborn."

"Remind you of anyone?" She chuckled softly, a lazy smile spreading across her face before she caught herself. That beautiful smile quickly faded and she looked away from me.

"It's not too late, you can still go." I looked at her, studying her features illuminated in the moonlight. I reached out and used one finger to turn her head to face me.

"Troian, please believe me, nothing you do or don't do, will make me change my mind. I'm not leaving. This is my home, my whole life is here. And I still love you – never stopped. And even though you don't love me anymore, I can't leave you. This may be a big opportunity for me, but you? You're so much more. You're what makes me smile when I get up in the morning. You're what I think about before every audition. It's you that is constantly on my mind. It's every inconsequential detail of you that makes up my life. And you're my muse. So yes, that job might be important, but _you_ are what inspires me. And _that_ – passion, inspiration, love – is truly the most important, the most beautiful and the most treasured thing in this universe."

"Patrick, I-" She stopped, tears still streaming down her face.

"Goodbye, Troian." I turned and made my way back to my front door, the weight of my confession still pressing down on me.

"_I never said I didn't love you."_

I stopped at the sound of her voice, her words ringing in my ears accompanied the heavy drumming of my heartbeat. I turned to find that she was a lot closer than I thought. My breath was snatched from my chest as I met her eyes, only a few centimetres away from my own. I could see the hesitation, the fear in her chocolate brown orbs but I could also see the determination and the fire burning deep within. She stared at me for a long moment, her exquisite features blank. Her eyes traced over me; my eyes, nose, cheekbones and ending at my lips. Her eyes quickly darted up to mine again before she leaned in, her eyes fluttering shut.

* * *

**Sorry about the weird ending. In my sleep deprived state, i thought it made sense. Now, i'm not so sure :P**


End file.
